Peace
by Krys33
Summary: “He was the only one who’d ever seen her cry since the war, and she planned to keep it that way.” [ZoëWash, postBDM, oneshot.]


**A/N: **This vignette is sort of a companion piece to _Scars_, but it's definitely not necessary to have read that first. This is hopefully one of what will be a few small pieces expanding on the little snapshot moments at the end of _Scars_.  
**Disclaimer: **You know it's not mine. Joss is boss.

* * *

The crew's first night back on _Serenity_ was one of the strangest for all of them.

The ship wasn't even up and running again just yet. They all still had work to do, and with everyone walking about with some injury or another, the going was slow. But they couldn't stay off the boat much longer without going crazy with homesickness. _Serenity_ was where they all belonged, and they knew that full well.

Zoë especially was having a tough time. That first night, after everyone else had retreated to their respective bunks for the evening, she remained at the table, running a finger around and around the rim of her empty glass. She should go to bed, she knew, but the thought of stepping down into an empty bunk and lying down alone in a bed meant for two kept her where she was.

If thinking about it made her that nauseous, she couldn't even fathom the ramifications of actually doing it.

After she finally began to feel the beginning of exhaustion, and her hand began cramping up slightly from its monotonous journey, she rose slowly to her feet and set her cup onto the counter before making her way towards the foredeck hall.

Zoë bypassed the entry to her bunk after only a slight hesitation and continued towards the bridge.

For a moment, she only stood in the doorway, gazing around the room. Her footsteps were slow and deliberate as her bare feet overstepped the few glass shards missed by Kaylee's sweeping. She stood at the main console for a moment, sliding her fingertips over the metal, the screens blank and lights dark. As she moved to the side, her toes brushed up against a solid object, and looking down she saw it was a small, plastic dinosaur that had once sat proudly upon the surface before her. She picked it up carefully and examined it to find that a few of its spikes were missing, as was the very tip of its tail and one of its toes, and there was a small crack in its side.

But none of this seemed to matter to Zoë as she gently ran her hand over the toy. It occurred to her, then, exactly where she was and what had transpired there.

And that was when she finally let herself fall apart.

She sunk into the pilot's chair, a place she had rarely sat lest it was in Wash's lap, and curled her legs up beside her. The stegosaurus was clutched so tightly in her hands that her knuckles were beginning to whiten. Her tears, warm and wet, ran down her cheeks, and left a salty taste on her lips.

The hole in the back of the chair had yet to be fixed up, but the blood was gone and the frayed edges of the cloth were a shade lighter from the cleaning. The air inside _Serenity_ filtered through the openness and she could feel a small patch of coolness on her skin. Detaching one hand from the precious figure in her grasp, she ran a finger around the edge of the hole, much as she had the rim of her glass minutes ago, as she felt the torn cloth.

Zoë had learned long ago how to cry silently, how tears were a sign of weakness and being soft, and she wasn't going to let anyone hear her. It had always struck her as odd in the past the way that Wash always knew when she was crying, somehow, even when he couldn't see her and she was as quiet as humanly possible.

He was the only one who'd ever seen her cry since the war, and she planned to keep it that way.

Zoë never had been much of a religious individual, but she felt as if he were out there, somewhere, keeping an eye on her like he promised he would, all those years ago.

That thought calmed her a bit, and her tears slowed as she pulled the toy dinosaur a little closer to her chest. She laid her head on the pillowed headrest and let her eyes flutter closed, one last tear making its way down her cheek.

And she fell asleep feeling a little more at peace, Wash's beloved stegosaurus resting lightly over her heart.

* * *

**End**


End file.
